It’s pathetic if I think about it too much.
-I see I see? -He raises his eyebrow and looks at me.
I reach out and lower the volume of the Nirvana album that has been the soundtrack of the first leg of our trip.
-Yeah. It’s a game in which…
He chuckles.
“Sloane, I know what I see is.
“Well then, keep up the pace.” Don’t act so confused. You’re too old to play dumb. It’s not pretty. Amusement is reflected in each of his features and I breathe a sigh of relief. There is – . OK. I’ll go first. I see-I see something that’s… brown.
He looks quickly at himself.
-My coat.
-No.
The trees outside.
-No.
“He… really?” Brown?
I shrug.
-Yeah. Brown. What’s wrong with brown?
He rolls his eyes and looks around like he’s trying really hard to figure it out.
-Grass?
I mock.
The grass is not brown. It’s more like yellow.
One of his hands goes up in frustration. His fuse is short at the moment.
You need to laugh.
“I don’t know, Sloane. There’s not much that’s brown on this truck or out there. What is it?
It was a bull in a field we had already passed through. They were the darkest highlights of her hair. That’s how it appeared in my head.
I was lying to him.
However, he barks a laugh, and the lie is immediately worth the deception.
“You can’t choose things we’ve already been through!”
I smile, take off my Vans sneakers, and cross my legs on the seat.
“Keep the rhythm or jump, Gervais. This is not a child’s game. This is the big kid version.
He shakes his head slightly and looks at me.
-OK. OK. His chin tilts, and then his eyes are back on the road. They do not deviate. They remain fixed on the asphalt that stretches before us. I see-I see something that’s blue.
My lips come together.
-OK. Blue. Heaven?
“I thought this wasn’t the baby version of ‘I Spy’?”
I huff a quiet laugh.
-OK. The blue snowflake on the A/C button?
-No.
The blue stripe on the temperature control?
-No.
My head turns as a blue car speeds by.
“That blue sedan!” The corner of his mouth lifts.
-No.
“Can we play baby peek-a-boo?”
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye.
-No.
I roll my eyes and turn to check the back seat.
-My navy blue bag?
“It’s more like sky blue.”
Okay, well, I already guessed the sky.
“You guessed it.” -He nods.
I look around the vehicle, racking my brain. I should have known he would cheat on me after what I just did to him.
“Shall we pass a blue house or a blue barn or something?”
-No. It’s in the car. And it’s one of my favorite things.
You’re full of shit, Gervais. I lean back, crossing my arms, trying not to pout, but failing.
Their eyes meet mine again and they stare at me for a moment longer than necessary.
-No I’m not.
This time it’s my hands that fly up, just as heat blooms on my cheeks.
-OK. I guess I’ll keep things fair and give up. I don’t know.
This time, when he speaks, he doesn’t look at me. He stares at the smooth road as if there were something extraordinarily interesting there. He swallows, and I watch the column of his throat work under his stubble.
-Are your eyes.
I stay very, very still.
-My eyes? -I repeat stupidly. I have heard you clearly. I just didn’t expect that to be his answer. Not even close.
He shrugs as if it was nothing.
-Yeah. A robin’s egg is more accurate. Do you remember when we were walking to the river that time and the shell fell from the tree in front of us? You were so excited because there were baby birds, and I remember picking it up and looking at you, thinking it fit almost perfectly. He laughs as he finishes the sentence, as if it were a friendly walk down memory lane.
But inside, now I’m the one who’s spinning.
I clear my throat and suppress the swirling feelings.
-Yeah. Violet and I watched those robins every day. If we climbed the tree in front, we could see the nest.
Smile.
“You two were always climbing trees.
I smile and let my chin fall to my chest.
-Yeah. We were always trying to spy on you. Or eavesdropping. Once we saw them all bathing naked in the river. Violet wanted to stop after that because she said she would never recover. “I hadn’t felt the same, but then, I hadn’t been looking at my cousins.
My eyes locked on nineteen-year-old Jasper, who had returned home for the summer after playing youth hockey. A nineteen-year-old Jasper who seemed to spend all of his free time exercising.
The same man barks a laugh next to me.
“I think he has recovered.”
“Yes,” I whisper. I think he recovered.
“I can’t believe you didn’t catch him.” “He’s teasing me, not realizing the effect he has on me… but that’s nothing new.
That would never happen.
I scoff and nudge him in the ribs, smiling when he flinches.
“How am I going to look myself in the eyes?”
Most people use a mirror.
I poke him again and he snorts.
“Use the mirror, Sunny. What color do you think they are? Tell me it’s not robin’s egg blue.
Pushing toward the center console, I look in the rearview mirror. They are blue. But so are dark circles. The vein that no concealer can truly cover. So is what I feel inside right now if I really bend down and dig my fingers into that rock deep inside my gut.
“They’re only blue, Jas. “I lean back.” And I look tired.
“They’re not just blue.” -He says it as if it were a fact and not his opinion.
My stomach is upset.
And then I digress, not wanting to linger on these memories any longer than necessary. I don’t want to face all the shit I’ve chosen to run away from. Not yet. I launch again.
-I see I see…
We played several more rounds.
But we play the baby version, and neither of us calls the other out for it.